


Bad dreams

by captainhurricane



Series: Kinktober 2018 [4]
Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Dacryphilia, Dream Sex, F/M, Mirror Sex, Or Is It?, rift monster!Lotor
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-10-04
Updated: 2018-10-04
Packaged: 2019-07-25 03:57:08
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 534
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16189589
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/captainhurricane/pseuds/captainhurricane
Summary: Allura is not alright.





	Bad dreams

**Author's Note:**

> words of Day 4 are dacryphilia (tears/crying) and mirror sex

If the others knew of this particular secret, what would they say? Would they recoil in horror at knowing of Allura’s deepest desires? Would they find her disgusting?

Most of all: do or would their opinions even matter?

What she feels for Lotor is indescribable, beyond words, beyond love and hate and friendship and anything. It just is.

He comes to her mostly in dreams, a whisper of the man he was before the rift and the horror of its bright lights.

He is a horror. He is beautiful.

He calls her so: my beautiful empress, in many voices, in many soundless whispers, straight into her head.

Lotor comes to Allura during some nights, in the flesh, shimmering and eyes glowing and full of that awful bright light and she yields to him because her heart still, after all, burns for him.

It is her rooms inside the Blue Lion, her Lion – no, it is the room she had in the castle at Altea so long ago, no – the room shifts around her, like in a nightmare yet she kisses him on his mouth, whimpers when his teeth graze her.

“My empress,” whispers he, the yellow glow of his eyes too infernal to look at. His tongue is too long, yet she lets it crawl into her depths, between her spread thighs.

There are mirrors all around them, the ceiling, the walls, the bed that isn’t a bed.

She sees her own image: her shining blue eyes, her white hair wild and free and him: shifting and changing, the image of the arrogant prince, no, emperor he was flickering like he is a glitch in the universe. But his touch is real. His kisses are real.

“Lotor,” Allura whispers, climbs into his lap and sinks down on his cock: purple like him, with ridges that rub her, with length that reaches where it needs to go.

“My empress,” he purrs again and makes her turn around, so she’s facing herself, his glowing eyes staring from behind her shoulder. “Look at yourself.” Lotor’s hands, bigger, bigger, he has claws, something quite like tentacles slivering between her thighs, parting them further until all of her is visible.

She flushes, darker, deeper and tries to look at him but he grabs her chin. Drags the tip of his claw on one of her kiss-raw lips.

“Look at yourself.”

She looks. “My emperor,” she whispers and her heart, her very soul burns.

He smiles at her, a shadow of the smile he had on his handsome face then, that day when he kissed her the first time, when he looked at her like she had been the sun. Before he had revealed himself as a traitor, as a monster.

Now he truly is one.

He squeezes her breasts, licks into her mouth and purrs, fucks into her with fierce thrusts, licks away the tears on her face and she knows he loves the sight of them. He loves that she cries for him, for what was, for what could have been. His cock grows harder, thicker in her, like it could spear right through her: because of those tears. She knows it, she knows it to be so. 


End file.
